#okay not really but I do enjoy writing something cute inbetween my sad/creepy fics sometimes XD

[holly-fixation]

Angelic Aid: Chapter 2

Summary: The humans and the Cetra used to live on the planet in harmony. Once they were even the same race entirely. But centuries of different ideals set them apart. Humans lived in industrial cities, exploiting the planet for its resources. Cetra lived everywhere as nomads, with only one city in the north to call their own, and lived off the land, not drain it. But humans got paranoid and forgot the old teachings as their resources dwindled, and what way to keep an entire group on the same side but to present them with a common enemy? The Cetra were nearly wiped out, except for the city in the north and a few stragglers that learned to fit in with the humans undetected. The small tribes were gone. They were nearly extinct. The Cetra needed any help they could get, and their last hope was the one weapon humanity didn’t have: Black Materia.

Inspired by this art by @tannarys on twitter and follow up art that is absolutely adorable

Please Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Planning

The City of the Ancients. They really couldn’t come up with a better name? Well, the Cetra live short lives compared to the Angels. And the unoriginal name did not speak for the architecture, curved and swirling structures around a clear axis, with inconsistent sizing between bases and higher floors, closer to shells of sea life than practical design of buildings. Most homes he had seen were rectangular or triangular at best, while most of these were larger in the middle than their bases, where each of their inhabitants stared at him and murmured as they made their way to the… ‘home’ of the Queen of Cetra, he assumed.

“She actually used the Black Materia?”

“Did they only send one?”

“Couldn’t she ask for more warriors?”

“He looks like a kid.”

“You feel it too, right?” 

“The Planet’s afraid…”

“Is this a joke? Did Jenova abandon our treaty?”

“Will he be enough to save the Planet?”

“What are we gonna do if he’s not enough?”

So little faith. Every Cetra had questions. At some point he would be obligated to answer them, be it on the battlefield or from a podium. He hoped for the former, much more skilled with his blade than his words, as they continued their way. Yet he watched the young princess lead away from her mother, who tugged slightly to keep her on the path.

“We’re not going home?” Aerith asked with wide eyes. 

“We’re going to the war room first,” Iflana explained. “So we can prepare as much as possible.”

So they could rewrite their defense strategy in the next twenty four hours. The little girl was confused and pouting softly while the prince understood the purpose. And your people can determine I’m their trump card. A completely practical decision. 

“Prince,” the Cetra Queen called, and he looked to her immediately with his inhuman eyes. “Please sheath your sword.”

He nodded and swiftly slid his blade into his scabbard, not realizing he was wielding it through their entire journey, the weapon an extension of himself rather than a tool in his hand. Placing his hands to his sides, the only thing keeping a hollow feeling from entering his chest was the weight of the blade resting on his right. Now they finally entered the building, one of the few rectangular structures in a city of conch and snail shells. 

There was only one table in the center of the open room, a large map taking up the entire plank while a few smaller ones with markings were scattered on top of it. Six guards lined the walls, along with some…strange creature, while three others in varying forms of clothing stood at the table. The people snapped to attention as they respected their leader, but their eyes immediately tried burning holes through the Angel that was now before them. 

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” A blonde woman with spiky hair spoke first with a slight tremble in her voice as she regarded them all, first the queen, then the princess. “Your Highness.” Then her blue eyes turned to him, and she went silent in hesitation, turning back to the queen. “Does he know our conditions?”

Ifalna nodded before she took a breath, straightening her posture. “This,” She gestured to him with her hand, “is the Prince of Jenova: Sephiroth.”

Though there were only a few present in the room, they still murmured incoherently in response.

“He is the warrior Jenova offered, after I took genocide off the table.” Now she was addressing the blonde, as well as the rest of the room. “You are safe here.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you…”

“Sephiroth,” She gestured to each person she introduced, and he followed with his eyes, still as a statue as he assessed the room. “This is Claudia Strife. She’s human.”

His brows knotted in surprise and confusion, glancing back at the queen. 

“She is far from the only one in the city, but she speaks to everyone of the humans here and acts as a consultant for their ideas to us.” Then she moved to the man with black hair and a small beard, whose presence was clearly an illusion. “This is Reeve Tuesti. He’s our man on the inside. He can’t actually be here. That robot of a Mog projects this image when we need to speak directly to him. Otherwise he feeds information to the android on top of Mog called Cait Sith.”

“Interesting.” He analyzed each one of them carefully.

“I hate what we’re doing to the Cetra. And this is more than I could ever contribute on the front lines.” The illusion explained. 

The prince was skeptical but said nothing.

“Finally,” she gestured to the brown haired man at the end of the table in Cetra regalia, “This is The Captain. He’s in charge of planning attacks and defenses for our people. I assume you will get to know him well.”

He responded in an emotionless tone, and none of them knew if he was honest or sarcastic, “A pleasure.” His eyes moved to the queen. “Is this why you limit my power?”

She nodded. “We don’t want genocide. Humans are capable of good. Each of them is proof of that.”

Sephiroth nodded in affirmation before addressing the room with determination in his eyes. “What’s the situation then?”

Reeve was the first to speak. “All smaller settlements of Cetra are gone. This city is the last Cetra structure still standing.” He pointed to each location he spoke of on the map in front of them. “The navy has been split up to three locations: Midgar itself, Costa del Sol, and Junon. The current plan is to send each fleet hours apart to the bone village by the end of the week, and then attack the city continuously until it falls. Current projections are showing two full days of continuous attacks on the capital.”

“We do not have the manpower to survive a raid like that,” The Captain spoke. “Their machines are too durable to take down fast enough. We focus our magic on one, we get killed by the rest. We try to face them all, it’s a massacre.”

“We have enhanced materia,” Claudia explained, holding out her own marble of green and blue. “This is at least twice as powerful as natural materia. Each mech is equipped with a different type, so each suit has a different inherent weakness from the power they draw.”

“Did you capture any of these ‘mechs’?”

The Captain shook his head. “They self-destruct when they fall. Probably to prevent us from copying their technology.”

The prince glanced down, assessing the map before him, before resuming his questioning, “...Which of these cities has the largest navy?” 

“Junon,” Reeve answered without hesitation. 

“But all of our ships were destroyed in the battle to retrieve the Black Materia,” The Captain spat. “So you are our last shot.”

He barely turned to the speaker. “Do you doubt me?”

The Captain scoffed. “You’re what, thirteen at best?”

He stared at the brown haired man, calculating in his mind. “Fifteen of your years. Does that matter?”

“Of course it does. What if you get moody and leave the battlefield? What if you’re too weak?”

“This is not my first war,” He countered, his deep voice reverberating off of the walls as he spoke sternly. “And I will not break our treaty. If you want your people to live by the end of next week, then attack their military now. I cannot guarantee all of your people’s survival if they reach this city in the numbers you threaten.”

“Then what’s your suggestion?”

The silver prince turned to the spy. “Do you know when they plan on departing?”

“The Junon navy departs in three days, Costa del Sol in four, and Midgar in five.”

“When are the least of their soldiers on duty?” He questioned, his trained warrior way of thinking cleanly cutting back to business. 

The man paused as he thought. “...Midnight to 4AM. The worst shift. Soldiers on duty are the same throughout the day, but the rest of the infantry is asleep during those hours.”

“Then in two days at 1AM, I’ll attack.”

“By yourself? You think you can handle that?” The Captain questioned harshly.

“I saw him cut through solid stone without scratching his sword.” 

All eyes suddenly locked on to the source of the response: the young princess.

Back in the Northern Crater, she watched it happen, when he slashed his mother’s image to prove he was no longer an illusion, the blade phased through her dress but sliced deep into the stone below like warm butter. “He’s strong.”

“Your Highness, this doesn’t concern you-”

“Don’t you feel how scared the Planet is?” Aerith questioned. 

“Aerith,” Ifalna scolded. 

“If the Planet’s afraid of him, then he has to be strong...” She finished softly, her green eyes moving to the ground to avoid the daggers they stared at her with

The only eyes without judgment were the angelic ones, but his gaze was unreadable to her.

The Captain sighed, resuming the meeting. “Fine, if you’re strong enough, how do you plan to get there?”

“I’m an Angel,” He stated blankly. 

The dirty look was justified, but the Captain finally surrendered his argument against the fifteen-year-old. “Then do it, if you think you can handle it.”

“Once you attack, the rest of the navy will be alerted immediately,” Reeve added. “Within minutes.”

So my next attack won’t be easy. As expected. “We can worry about that when Junon is over.”

“Junon is full of innocent people. Especially by the water, the original village,” Claudia interrupted, staring at the prince with decisive eyes. “How will you determine an enemy from a bystander?”

He paused, glancing away before speaking again. “...All higher rank uniforms are fair game. If the infantry attacks me, I will kill them. But if they don’t, I will not hunt them down.”

“So you won’t attack-”

“Anyone in any other clothing will not be harmed unless they attack me.”

“...Why wait two days?” Ifalna asked skeptically since the boy clearly had military expertise. “If we had the power, we would attack now.” 

“Most militaries have a night of revelry before embarking on missions. That’s when they’ll be vulnerable,” Sephiroth stated. “It'll only work once.”

“Can you attack more than one city that night?”

“No.” He stared at the Captain. “I can’t teleport. Communication will increase. The remaining navies will be ready when Junon falls.”

“Claudia,” The Captain turned to her, “Do you have any other way to get us a boat? Any boat?”

She thought for a moment. “I can go to The Bone Village and see if I can cash in any favors.”

He nodded, then turned to the boy. “If she gets that boat, we’ll send two of our healers with you.”

“I don’t need healers.”

“You’ve never seen this army, or its technology. You may fight with us, but you will not fight for us.” Now he spoke like a man trying to get things done. “Their mech’s are strong. Treat us as a precaution, not a necessity if it makes you feel better.”

“I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Then figure out how.”

His Mother’s words suddenly ran through his head. “...Teach me.”

Aerith’s eyes suddenly lit up. 

Ifalna explained to the remainder. “We teach him our ways, he teaches us their ways: that was the deal I made with Jenova. Perhaps this is why.”

The Captain sighed softly. “I’ll teach you what I know. Even if it’s just a few tricks.” He groaned slightly as he thought aloud. “I can try to have something set up at dawn. But most of us are magic trained, not sword trained.”

“It’s appreciated nonetheless,” The prince returned with sentiment. 

“Then,” The Queen of Cetra addressed the room, “We have a plan. I believe this meeting is over.”

The two men nodded in agreement, but the blonde human glanced away. 

“I have one last question.” She returned her gaze to Ifalna. “It’s nearly night. What’s the plan for the prince?”

* * *

“Aerith’s bed is on the top floor. You will take this bed outside my room,” Ifalna explained to the young prince with a hand on the bed frame.

He had a confused countenance as he analyzed the floor. “It’s… no larger than the other homes.”

“Cetra do not take more than we need. I may be their ruler, but I am no exception.” She returned his confusion with a soft look of understanding. “We have slight advantages, not many. Speaking of which, I have to make us dinner.”

“You’re expected to provide for yourself as well?”

Ifalna nodded. “No one cooks for us. We take care of ourselves unless aid is necessary.”

“Hm.”

“Prince Sephiroth!” The little girl shouted from the top floor. “Come see my room!” 

He nearly groaned at the call, but the mother could see it in the slight change of his posture. 

“Just give her twenty minutes,” Ifalna spoke with understanding. “She’ll get tired soon. It’s been a long day.”

“...Indeed.” I hope you're right, he thought with a grimace. What am I supposed to learn from a child?

Ifalna held back a soft laugh. For the first time, he looked his age, even if only for a moment. “If she’s too much, just ask her to show you the city. At least then she’ll keep her eyes off you. Or ask enough questions and she’ll tire herself out.”

The prince nodded at her aid, then sighed, resigning himself to this frustrating fate before climbing up the spiral as the mother climbed down to the kitchen.  

“Sephiroth!” She called with a bit more insistence before he walked through the door. She gasped. “You’re here! What do you think?” She practically danced as pointed and ran to the many, useless objects in the small room. The proportional bed, desk, and wardrobe were the few exceptions. Pink walls, yellow carpet, various writing utensils with rainbows of variety, and fluff, yes fluff is the only word to describe this mess, in any form it could take: blankets, toys, chairs, small or large, it did not matter. Children must be an exception to only taking what’s necessary from the planet. Or at least she was. 

Aerith’s eyes were still wide with anticipation as he scanned the room, her arms still stretched in performance. 

“It’s… very you,” He answered monotonously. 

She smiled before grabbing a vase on her desk. “Do you have flowers like this on your planet?”

He squinted his eyes as he thought, analyzing the yellow flower and its oddly bent stem. “Not that I’ve seen.”

“They’re yellow lilies!” 

Is there a single calm cell in her body? Nothing is this exciting. 

“They symbolize reunion,” She explained as she took one of the flowers out of the vase and thrusted it toward him. “Take one!”

He stepped back in response, but she stepped closer to negate it. “No.”

“Why not?” She tilted her head. 

“I have no need for it.”

She giggled softly. “No one needs flowers, Sephy-”

“Do not call me that.”

“We grow them because they look pretty,” She continued without hesitation, “and then we give them to people we care about, or we put them in our hair.” She showed her example by stringing the stem of the flower into her braid, the yellow petals sticking above the center of her bow. “Or we keep them around for fun.”

“Is that your definition of fun?” He questioned moodily. “Rotting petals on your desk and in your hair?”

“We don’t keep them until they rot, Silly.”

“Stop.”

She gave a soft look of apology before returning to her tweety dimenor. “When they wilt too much, we compost them to grow more plants. Sometimes food, sometimes flowers.” She tilted her head again. “What do you do for fun on your planet?”

“...We celebrate our victories, depending on the difficulty,” He explained simply. 

“But that’s a special occasion,” She pointed out with a little wag of her finger. “That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Fun isn’t always tied to an event itself, it can happen at any time. Are you saying you don’t have hobbies?”

“I train.”

She pouted before mumbling, “That’s still not ‘fun’...”

He crossed his arms. 

After a short pause, the princess perked up. “I like to play with my stuffed animals for fun! Would you like to see?”

“How about,” He needed a way out of this, “you show me your city.”

Her eyes widened with joy. “Of course! That’s probably better for you too!” But as she headed for the door, she suddenly stopped, turning to him with a knowing look. “But you said you’d show me your wing.”

“I said ‘later’. I didn’t promise anything.” 

“Does it hurt to take it out?”

His brows knotted. “No.”

“Then why won’t you show me.”

He scanned the room with his cat-like eyes. “There’s not enough space.”

“Do your eyes widen?”

Sephiroth gave the girl a very confused look.

“You know, like a cat. Do they get bigger?”

There was a moment of silence as he tried to figure out what she was referring to. “What?”

Aerith gasped, “You don’t know what a cat is on this planet!” She grabbed the prince’s arm as she ran for her door. “Let’s go find one.”

Of course she lacked the strength to physically drag him along, but when her arms slipped off of his she jumped in the doorway until he sighed and followed. 

I’m sorry. Whatever I did, Mother, I’m sorry.

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Thanks for reading!

because I cannot write a one shot for my life